With a sense of renewed purpose, I , Luna, and Elysia set out for West Avenue, the place where the enigmatic wizard Zeddacus was said to reside. The sun was just rising, casting a warm glow over the town of Lunar Ridge. Despite the early hour, the streets were already bustling with activity, a mix of humans and supernatural beings going about their day.
Luna, ever the optimist, led the way, her excitement palpable. "Come on, guys! We might finally get some answers," she said, practically bouncing with each step.
Then I followed, my expression a mix of hope and apprehension. "I just hope this isn't a wild goose chase," I murmured, glancing at Elysia.
Elysia floated beside us, her translucent form shimmering in the morning light. "Mrs. Peterson seemed pretty sure. And we have nothing to lose," she reminded us.
As we reached West Avenue, the atmosphere shifted. The air felt thicker, charged with a faint, almost imperceptible energy. The buildings here were older, their facades marked by time and history. A sense of anticipation hung in the air.
"Do you think this is the right place?" I curiously asked, looking around.
Luna nodded. "This has to be it. Let's ask around."
We approached a shopkeeper, an elderly man with kind eyes and a knowing smile. "Excuse me, sir. We're looking for a wizard named Zeddacus. Do you know where we might find him?" Luna asked.The man chuckled softly. "Zeddacus, eh? He's not easy to find. He doesn't like visitors much. But if you're determined, head to the old house at the end of the street. That's where he's usually seen."
We thanked the shopkeeper and continued down the street, stopping in front of a weathered, ivy-covered house. It looked abandoned, but there was an undeniable aura of magic about it.
"This must be the place," Elysia said, her voice tinged with awe.
We approached the door and knocked. For a moment, there was no response. Just as we were about to knock again, the door creaked open on its own.
"Enter," a deep, resonant voice commanded
We exchanged nervous glances but stepped inside. The interior of the house was dimly lit, filled with the scent of ancient books and herbs. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with dusty tomes and curious artifacts. At the center of the room stood a figure cloaked in shadow.
"Who seeks the wisdom of Zeddacus?" the voice asked, echoing slightly in the enclosed space.
I stepped forward, my voice steady despite her nerves. "I am Gloria Hawthorne, and these are my friends, Luna and Elysia. We've come seeking your help.
When we entered the house, we were greeted by the sight of a young boy, no older than five, with an eerily mature voice. I stepped forward and asked, "We're looking for Zeddacus. Is he here?"
The boy chuckled mischievously, his eyes twinkling. "He doesn't see anyone," he replied, before vanishing into thin air with a flicker of light.
"Please, wait!" Elysia called out, her voice echoing through the empty hall.
We waited, the hours ticking by painfully slowly. Luna's patience finally snapped. "This is ridiculous. I'm finding him myself," she declared, striding toward where the boy had disappeared.
A blinding flash of light and an invisible force hurled Luna back, sending her crashing into the wall.
"Luna!" Elysia and I rushed to her side. My anger flared, my hands clenching into fists. "I've had enough of these games."
Rising to her feet, in anger, my voice echoed with authority as I shouted, "I know you're here, Zeddacus! Come out while I'm still asking nicely!"
My eyes blazed with determination, and I began chanting an incantation. My words grew louder, resonating with power. The room filled with a pulsating light, and the very walls began to tremble.
Books tumbled from shelves, and the air crackled with raw energy. Finally, the house shook violently, and from the shadows, Zeddacus stumbled forward, an elderly man with a long, tangled beard and eyes that seemed to pierce through the very soul.
"Alright, alright! Stop before you will bring my house down!" he bellowed, his voice a mix of irritation and grudging respect.
"You would collapse my home just to see me?" he growled, adjusting his robes with a huff.
My eyes locked onto his with fierce determination, and anger.
"Yes," Elysia said, her voice steady. "We need your help." she jumped forward.
"Fine. You've got my attention. Now, what is it you want?"
As Zeddacus emerged from the shadows, his figure shrouded in the darkness, the air crackled with anticipation. With a mere flick of his finger, the shadows seemed to recoil, revealing a man draped in a plush bathrobe, the fabric cascading around him like a cloak of mystery. The robe, a deep shade of midnight blue, clung to his form with an almost otherworldly grace, hinting at the power that lay beneath its luxurious folds.
But in the blink of an eye, the bathrobe vanished, replaced by a crisp button-up shirt and tailored trousers that spoke of sophistication and authority. The transformation was seamless, as if the very fabric of reality bent to his will, obeying his every command with unwavering obedience.
His beard, meticulously groomed and streaked with silver, framed a face that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe within its lines and creases. His eyes, intense and piercing, bore into the souls of those who beheld him, their depths unfathomable yet alluring.
In that moment, Zeddacus stood before us, a figure of awe and wonder, his presence commanding respect and reverence. He was not just a wizard; he was a force of nature, a being of untold power and limitless potential. And as he gazed upon them with a knowing smile, it was clear that they stood in the presence of greatness.
Elysia brought out the drawing "do u know anything about this?"
Zeddacus's gaze lingered on the drawing in Elysia's hand, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the intricate lines and symbols etched upon the paper. For a moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a fleeting spark of familiarity that quickly vanished beneath a mask of inscrutability.
"I have seen such markings before," he finally replied, his voice deep and resonant. "They speak of ancient magic, of powers long forgotten by the world of men."
With a wave of his hand, he beckoned Elysia closer, his expression grave yet tinged with a hint of curiosity. "Tell me, child, where did you come across this drawing? And what do you seek to find with it?"
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of centuries of wisdom and knowledge, as he awaited her response.
I was now calmed, started talking, "I am an Hawthorne"
Zeddacus's eyes widened in recognition at Gloria's revelation. "Hawthorne, you say?" he echoed, his tone tinged with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "A name steeped in ancient lore and legend, whispered in hushed tones among the circles of the wise."
He regarded me with a newfound sense of respect, his gaze lingering on me with a newfound intensity. "To be of the Hawthorne lineage is no small thing," he continued, his voice reverent. "Your family's legacy is woven into the very fabric of our world, their magic a force to be reckoned with."
As Zeddacus spoke of my heritage, a sense of pride welled within me, my shoulders straightening with newfound confidence. I am an Hawthorne, bearer of a legacy that stretched back through the annals of time, and I would carry that mantle with honor and pride.
"And what brings a descendant of the Hawthorne line to my doorstep?" Zeddacus inquired, his eyes piercing as he awaited her response. "Surely, there is more to your visit than mere chance."